Into the Storm
by kjg1194
Summary: What do you do when everything is taken from you? When the only options left are run and hide or stand and fight it's an easy option for Harry. AU after OoTP.
1. Chapter 1

Harry lay on his cramped, broken bed in the smallest room in Number 4, Privet Drive. His thoughts ran rampant and uncontrollable in his head and it seemed that nothing he could do could contain them, not even Snape's 'lessons' on Occlumency.

Even the thought of Snape was enough to set Harry on edge again and he jumped from his bed and began to prowl around his cramped room like a caged tiger. Harry glanced at his calendar as he passed it and took note of the day. It was the 15th of July and that made it two weeks since he had returned home to the Dursleys. Just over two weeks it had been since he had seen Sirius fall through the veil and had his mind rent apart by Voldemort in his attempt to possess him.

Two weeks since he found out that the hopes of the entire wizarding world rest on his shoulders and it was his sole responsibility to vanquish the earth of Lord Voldemort, the most feared wizard since Grindelwald, who Dumbledore had to defeat himself.

Harry laughed sardonically to himself. Who was he kidding when he imagined himself victorious as the lifeless body of Voldemort lay beneath him? Voldemort had fifty years of knowledge while Harry had five years of sub-par teaching at best. What did Harry have? Love? Love was his secret weapon? Did Dumbledore expect Harry to spike Voldemort with a love potion? The notion that his secret weapon was love was either completely ridiculous or extremely disappointing. Harry hoped desperately for the former.

Harry snatched up a copy of the Daily Prophet which had a picture of him on the front and the caption 'The Chosen One'. The hypocrisy of it all just became too much and Harry suddenly punched out at his wall in frustration as he stalked passed it and pain shot through his right hand and lanced up forearm, causing him to double over in pain.

Suddenly, just like that Harry's anger seemed to vanish as he fell onto the bed and cradled his throbbing, bleeding hand, the paper forgotten on the floor as is frustration was slowly replaced by despair and hopelessness. He didn't know what to do anymore or who to turn to.

In two weeks Harry's world had been flipped on its head and right now the only thing he knew for sure was that if Vernon heard Harry punch the wall in the middle of the night then there would be nothing left for Voldemort to exact revenge on.

Harry laughed to himself at the idea, and in the deepest and darkest corner of his mind he kind of wanted it. Harry imagined the dark irony of it all. Harry Potter, saviour of the wizarding world and vanquisher of the Dark Lord who despised all things muggle, killed by muggles.

Harry laughed so hard that he couldn't breathe and almost forgot about the pain pulsing through his hand every few milliseconds. After a few seconds he stopped and his breathing calmed. _It feels good to laugh, _Harry thought to himself with a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered if he was going insane and in the end he decided he didn't care.

It had been so long since he had smiled, let alone laughed that it felt like the tiniest bit of the weight had lifted off his shoulders, but it was still something. _This is what Sirius would want, _Hermione's voice echoed in his head. Upon hearing that he felt an involuntary pang of anguish rack though his body but he would not cry. He had done his crying for his deceased godfather.

Right now the only good thing that seemed to exist in his life was the fact that he would be leaving the loving care of the Dursleys in less than a week, according to Ron's latest letter anyway. Harry must have read it about a thousand times by now. Every few hours he seemed to read it again in case it decided to disappear.

Upon thinking that he looked over to the small stack of letters he had received over the summer, most of them correspondence from Hermione and Ron and a few from Ginny asking how he was and encouraging him to move past Sirius's death.

He couldn't help but feel a flicker of annoyance when he thought about Hermione's letters, all of which seemed to ask if he was alright over and over. While he appreciated the concern from his friend it was always easier from an outside perspective to offer someone grieving a logical view as to why they should let go and 'heal'.

But it never turned out that way. Nobody who had lost someone looked at their passing logically and got over it within days. It took weeks, and for some people, months. It doesn't matter how many people you have lost, it always hurts the same. _Mental scars take the longest time to heal, _he mimicked the words of Professor Dumbledore in his head yet he could not refute their truth.

_Especially for someone in my case, _he said to himself in a morbid voice. Here was yet another person that Harry had lost, one of the only parental figures that he had ever known, barring Lupin and Ron's parents. _Even worse still, Sirius died because of my foolishness, _Harry thought bitterly to himself while clenching his already throbbing hand.

Yes, this loss was in a sense he hardest to take. While Harry missed his parents with all his heart he never had the actual chance to know and love them. For Harry the loss he felt was more the concept of knowing what he could have had and never experiencing it.

But Sirius was a different story. Harry had gotten to know Sirius and spent genuine time with him and he saw that Sirius loved him like a son and that made it all more difficult for him to take.

How long would it be before he had nothing left and nobody left to care for? How long until the world stopped taking things from him and he actually got something back? How long would it be until he was fighting a war that he had no desire to win?

These things ran through Harry's mind again and again making Harry's thoughts an absolute mess. Harry suspected that a light breeze could bypass his already pathetic occlumency shields at the moment. Harry half smiled at the idea, imagining the image of Snape scowling at Harry's less than exemplary progress in the mind arts.

Just as the unpleasant thoughts started to subside the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stood up and he felt a chill run down his spine. Now Harry didn't consider himself a fortune teller or anything, nothing like that. His skill for Divination backed up that point quite nicely. But years of being beat up and being in constant danger had taught him to always trust his instincts as he seemed to have a knack for being right.

Because of this Harry immediately had his holly and phoenix feather wand in his hand, not without a wince of pain as his damaged hand protested, as he bolted to the window and peered out into the darkness. Most of the outside was covered in darkness except for the faint glow from the streetlamps on the sidewalk.

And under the light of one of the streetlamps was where he saw it. What he saw exactly he wasn't sure but he saw something, some sort of distortion or maybe a trick of the light but his gut told him no, this was something real and potentially dangerous.

Harry backed away from the window slightly as he went through possibilities in his head. _Maybe it was just one of the Order on guard, _he reasoned with himself but regardless he felt his heart beating rapidly and the adrenaline begin to pump through his body as if in preparation for a fight.

_Fuck it, _he thought and ran to the loose floorboard in his room and grabbed the rucksack from beside his bead. As fast as his hands would allow he pulled out his invisibility cloak, the Marauder's Map, the broken shard of the two-way mirror that Sirius gave him and his Firebolt, a gift also from his late godfather. His right hand was throbbing but he couldn't care less. Pain he could recover from but death he could not.

Quick as he could he shoved these things into his bag, debating for a split second before shrinking his Firebolt. _If something is going on here I'll take the fucking underage magic trial, _he thought to himself with a grim smile.

He was just debating whether or not he should bring his advanced duelling books that Sirius had also given him when many things happened at once.

Harry felt a surge of energy throughout the house followed by a sound that could only be described as the shattering of glass. Almost instantly after that there was a stretching sound that seemed as if the house was being place under a gigantic bubble.

At the same time as this was happening Harry heard a voice shouting, "Harry the Death Eaters ar-" only to see a green flash cutting off all sound. Harry recognised the voice of Mundungus Fletcher and suddenly the gravity of the situation that he found himself in began to dawn on him.

Harry was frozen still in time, still processing what was happening. Subconsciously he gave himself ten seconds before all hell broke loose. Ten seconds before he would have to fight for his life once more.

_Three seconds. _Harry rose and sprinted out of his room and made it to Vernon and Petunia's bedroom, kicking in the door and shouting, "Death Eaters, get out now!" Vernon shouted and rolled out of the bed and fell in a heap on the floor while Petunia just shot up in the bed and screeched. The whole scene would have been comical if not for the seriousness of the situation.

_Seven seconds. _Harry turned and sprinted down the hall, past the bathroom and his own room before reaching Dudley's room and barging in, shouting at him at the top of his lungs to get out of bed.

_Ten seconds. _Dudley managed to open his eyes and peer angrily at Harry at being woken up, his glare promising a beating for this. Harry noticed Dudley begin to rise when he saw a flash of red from outside rocket towards the house.

"NO!" he shouted in a frantic voice as the red beam connected with the wall below Dudley's window and the wall, along with shards of glass, exploded inwards. The force of the spell combined with the debris of concrete sent Harry flying back through the door from where he came from and he collided with the wall in the landing with a sickening crunch.

Harry felt blood trickle down the back of his head and onto his neck as he recovered from the explosion. He took a breath and cried out in agony as pain seared across his chest. He looked down to find parts of his shirt ripped and bloodied from two deep gouges.

Harry managed to stagger upwards with the help of the wall when he heard an explosion of wood and looked down to see two cloaked figures enter through the now door-less front door. Harry pointed his wand and sent a stunner in their general direction, hitting one of them to his own surprise.

However, his triumph was short lived as he noticed the twisting, malevolent red beam of the torture cursehurtling towards him and he dodged just in time as the curse connected with the wall behind him, showering him with more debris.

Harry, angered by the use of the unforgivable, replied with a cutting curse followed by a powerful stunner. Harry's stunner connected but not before the hooded figure was able to send a bone-breaker at Harry, connecting with his left arm and snapping it with a sickening crack.

Harry, already with a badly damaged right hand had now a broken left arm for good measure too. With a wince Harry tucked his left arm against his now freely bleeding chest and placed a sticking charm on it to keep in out of the way.

As Harry was doing this he failed to notice the Death Eater who followed in his fallen comrades and fired a banishing charm at Harry, catching him in the side and sending him careening down the hallway, landing on his back with a thump.

Just then Vernon decided to make an appearance, huffing out of his room with his face a picture of pure rage. "What in the bloody hell is going on out here?" he roared at the top of his lungs before noticing the bloodied form of Harry struggling to rise.

Just at that moment the Death Eater who had banished Harry down the hall reached the top of the stairs and let loose an ominous looking orange spell which Harry didn't recognise and he watched in slow motion as it connected with Vernon and he dropped to the floor with a scream, deep lacerations appearing all over his body.

Petunia screamed while Harry tore his eyes away from the horrible scene and fired a powerful cutting curse at the Death Eater, which smashed against his shield. Harry followed it with _Stupefy _and then another powerful _Reducto. _

The Death Eater had to dodge the last spell and this gave Harry his opening, rising to his feet and running towards Petunia's and Vernon's room, pulling a hysterical Petunia with him. Just as Harry was almost through a piercing curse caught him in the calf, cutting through skin, muscle and bone in a small hole, almost like a bullet would.

Harry cried out in pain but managed to make it to the bed where he threw Petunia and screamed, "Behind the bed, now!"

"Where are you going," she asked him in a frantic and pained voice, tears streaming down her face.

"Getting Dudley," Harry grunted through gritted teeth, the pain now starting to settle in along with a healthy dose of fear and panic. The only thing keeping him upright was adrenaline and his own stubbornness when it came to survival.

Harry took a deep breath before running out into the hallway again, leaping over Vernon's prone body and ignoring the searing pain in his leg, firing off a barrage of spells, _Reducto, Stupefy, Pertrificus Totalus, Expelliarmus_, all in quick succession.

The Death Eater recovered from his momentary shock and dodged the first spell and letting the other three fizzle out against his shield before retaliating, firing off two spells which Harry didn't even recognise.

Realising he was in no shape to dodge Harry conjured a strong shield and braced himself as the two of the spells connected, the second spell shattering Harry's shield and throwing him back against the wall.

Harry recovered instantly though and fired a _Stupefy _and a _Reducto _within milliseconds of each other. The Death Eater, caught by surprise, dodged the stunner but moved to the left in order to do so, straight into the path of the _Reducto._

Harry watched in morbid fascination as the spell collided with the Death Eaters head and the head that was underneath the hood exploded in a spray of crimson. Harry fought back the bile that threatened to surge up his throat and moved on towards Dudley's room.

Harry managed to somehow make his way there and stumbled in, leaning onto the doorframe as he did so but the sight that greeted him made him want to get sick all over again. The mangled upper body of Dudley lay sprawled out on his bed, his lower half still under the sheets from when Harry woke him. His face wasn't even distinguishable anymore; a red lump of pulverised meat was all that looked back at Harry.

It was at that moment that a brown, official looking owl swooped through Dudley's window and dropped a letter off at Harry's feet. Harry looked down and noticed the Ministry's seal on the letter and realised they must be expelling him for using magic. If the situation was not so dire he would have laughed. Harry burnt the letter with a flick of his wand and a muttered incantation before it could deliver its message.

Harry closed his eyes and turned away as another explosion shook the house, this one from downstairs. Harry turned and limped frantically away and back to Petunia when the wall just behind him exploded inwards, bits of debris cutting into Harry's back and making him wince.

Another few agonising steps on and the walls behind him blew out again as spells rained down on the house. Harry was five feet from where Petunia hid behind the bed when the room exploded and cursed fire began to devour the room, along with that whole corner of the house.

Harry watched, fixated with horror as demonic beasts burnt through everything in its path as the floor behind Harry began to explode upwards, spells raining upwards from down below. _This is it, _he thought desperately. _No getting out of this one. _

Harry looked around him, desperately searching for a way out. One of the lenses of his glasses had cracked, making eyesight only possible through one eye.

Harry turned and noticed that only his room seemed to be untouched from the destruction around him. A plan began to formulate in his mind. It was crazy and probably certain death. Surely there were Death Eaters waiting out front for him, right?

Then again, hadn't he and his friends escaped a dozen or so of Voldemort's most trusted followers? _Just do it, Potter, _Harry thought to himself. _What's out there is unknown but if you stay here either that fire or the Death Eaters will kill you. _

Strengthened by that reasoning, Harry summoned up the last of his courage and his energy and turned away from the fire, the flames licking at his heels, and ran towards his room. Every step was agony as he barged into his room and raised his wand, shouting, "REDUCTO."

His window, along with half the wall and the metal bars on it exploded outwards onto the front lawn. Harry stood up and grabbed his rucksack which he had forgotten in the madness. Harry took a second and said a silent prayer before he ran towards the hole in the wall lunged out onto the lawn following the debris down onto the lawn.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N : Thanks to all of you who have read this story so far and have enjoyed it. Just to be clear this story will be AU for the most part but there will be some canon parts to it also.**

**I have read a lot of stories on here and I have seen a lot of them turn into Dumbledore bashing and Weasley bashing but this will not happen in this story. There will be no inheritances or ancestors making Harry all-powerful and godlike or some master politician over night.**

**I will try to keep the out of character behaviour to the minimum and let them progress naturally in the story as I see fit due to experiences that they go through. **

**Also, there will be some romance but mainly there will be action and a lot of twists and adventure. Harry is a teenager after all and I don't really buy into the whole falling in love in four chapters and 'us two against the rest' stuff that I see a lot.**

**Finally, if you enjoy this story then don't be afraid to leave a review or follow or favourite the story. I would love if you all would review and give me your thought's/criticisms and I will answer any queries you have. **

**Anyway, enough of my rambling and boring you all with my guidelines that will probably go out the window after like 10 chapters. So, wihout further ado, Chapter 2 : Enjoy :) **

Pain was all that let Harry even know that he was still alive. Every breath he took was agony. Every movement seemed to send spasms of pain through his muscles and nerves. Yet through all this it let him now that his heart was still beating. And as long as that was the case he had a chance.

Harry separated himself from the rubble that lay on the lawn and tried to move but ended up crying out in pain as he did so. He chanced a glance back and saw that his already damaged leg was now bent at an awkward angle.

Bile rose up Harry's throat once more and once again he threatened to empty the meagre contents of his stomach. Swallowing hard and with much effort, Harry managed to regain his composure amidst all the pain and destruction around him.

Pushing himself up with a grimace the first thing he noticed was a single Death Eater looking slack-jawed at him, his eyes flitting between Harry and the massive hole he had just jumped through.

To someone's vantage point from the outside it must have looked like Harry had literally ran through the wall, causing the damage with his body alone. Harry mentally laughed at the thought.

Two seconds passed by before either of them reacted and Harry was the quickest, managing to let loose an accurate stunner before the Death Eater could finish his incantation.

Harry looked behind him and chanced a quick glance at the house he once called his 'home'. Massive flames were now engulfing almost half the house. Unearthly roars and screams of pleasure were all that could be heard from the fiery demons. Harry shivered involuntarily. He wished he never saw them flames again or the person who cast them.

With what was left of all his strength Harry managed to cast an _Episkey _on his broken leg and groaned in pain and relief as the bone snapped back in place but Harry knew that the damage to the leg was still severe. His healing spell wouldn't last long.

Knowing this, Harry conjured a splint and watched as it bound itself to his shin with a before conjuring appeared around his leg keeping the splint in place. Harry lifted himself from the ground with enormous effort.

Knowing he had little time before he was found Harry began to think furiously. _C'mon, think you idiot. If only I knew how to apparate or something. I bet Hermione would know how to cast the disillusionment cha-_

Harry cursed himself for being so stupid before he reached around towards his rucksack to fetch his invisibility cloak. No sooner had his hands touched the zipper when a red light slammed into the ground behind him.

Without warning the sickly green light of the killing curse followed close behind the last spell, causing Harry to drop to the floor, the curse missing him by inches. Harry swore he felt the sweet caress of death as the curse hit the bushes behind him.

Without thinking, Harry jumped to his feet, ignoring the protestation of his body and launched himself over the low wall that separated Number 4 from the neighbour's house.

It was there that Harry was met with the lifeless body of Mundungus Fletcher, his unseeing eyes staring into the night sky, the stench of tobacco and alcohol still emanating from the corpse.

A pang of guilt and sorrow passed through Harry before he ruthlessly pushed it deep down for later reflection, focusing on the situation at hand.

He was out of the house now but the chances were he had at least two, maybe three Death Eaters still up and running. He had killed one, the thought still making him feel sick to the core, and if the other two he stunned in the house weren't woken up by another Death Eater then they were sure to follow. More blood on his hands, he realised with a jolt. _Necessary, _he told himself. _It's self defence, not murder. _

Harry knew he was not out of the woods by any stretch of the imagination and he was starting to wonder just how much more his body could take. Already he could feel his vision slip in and out of focus, bouts of pain like white hot knives piercing his body.

His muscles were starting to cramp up and he predicted he had maybe a few more minutes before his body finally gave out.

With that thought in his mind Harry got on his hands and knees and began to crawl towards the back garden of Number 3, maybe he could lose the Death Eaters in the spiders web of houses that was Little Whinging.

With all his might Harry began to crawl, faster and faster until he was finally into the back garden and could see a metal gate in the seven foot wall that surrounded the back of the garden. Harry prayed that the gate was open and after a reassuring breath he made a run for it, not even bothering to see what was behind him.

Harry made it to his destination in seconds and to his delight the gate had been left open. _Maybe the prophecy is right after all and only Voldemort can kill me, _he sang jubilantly in his head.

However, Harry's joy was short lived as he felt the energy of the spell more so than sensed it coming. Knowing what was about to happen Harry wrenched the gate open and dived through as the wall and gate exploded behind him and for the third time Harry was thrown through the air like a ragdoll.

This time Harry did not have the strength or energy left to get up. Every cell in his body was on fire with pain and he felt the darkness creeping in from the edges of his vision. _What was that passage I read in that book again that Sirius gave me, _he thought for a second as the page randomly entered his head.

_For one to apparate the must have a clear picture of the destination that they want to apparate to and once the individual has achieved this they must spin on the spot and will it to happen. Concentration is important for the individual. The witch or wizard must be connected to their magic and be able to feel it as they push themselves through space to achieve a successful apparition. _

That doesn't seem to hard, Harry thought as he tried to feel his magic. The darkness was closing in now and he could hear footsteps and voices nearby. _C'mon Harry, _he thought desperately to himself. _Now would be a great time to learn how to spontaneously apparate. _

_Feel his magic, _he repeated in his head and after a few seconds he thought he could feel it. It was dim at the moment, like the dying embers of a fire but he could definitely feel something pulsing around his body.

The footsteps were getting closer and closer and Harry was getting weaker and weaker. Formulating thoughts were a struggle now for Harry as he lay face down in the ground. The darkness had almost completely engulfed him before one thought entered his mind; _Saftey._

* * *

><p>Elle was lying in her bed, flipping through some silly celebrity magazine and listening to music, contemplating why in the hell she wasn't able to sleep. Why was this night different to any other night where she had easily drifted off at a <em>somewhat<em> reasonable hour?

Elle shifted underneath her covers and huffed in annoyance as she pulled her headphones out and threw them onto her bedside locker. _Great, one week into the summer holidays and I've already turned into an insomniac, _she said to herself sardonically.

Her parents had left yesterday on a three week vacation and Elle, now considered an adult now that she had finally just turned eighteen had opted to stay behind instead. A sun holiday with just her and her parents had no appeal for her anymore.

After five more minutes of hopelessly trying to fall asleep Elle finally gave up and threw the covers off and jumped out of bed. At the same time as she did this Elle heard a loud pop from outside and she immediately froze.

A multitude of thoughts ran through Elle's head at once, foremost of them being that her house was being robbed and she was about to die. _Think rationally Elle, _she said to herself before she managed to work herself into a panic attack.

_It wasn't loud enough to have been a gun. And since when do people in Sutton get robbed? _She asked herself with a laugh. Elle managed to muster up an ounce of courage and went to the window where she peered out into the darkness.

Elle could just about make out the prone form of someone on the floor, seeming curled into a foetal position. Elle shrugged her shoulders, unsure of what to do. _Probably just some drunk that broke a bottle when he fell over, _she reasoned before letting the net curtains fall back over the window once more.

Elle went back to her bed and sat down on it for a matter of seconds before she was up again and pacing. _Maybe I should just go out and check? Maybe they cut themselves when they fell. Surely it wouldn't hurt if I just went out and checked, _Elle thought, truly unsure of what to do.

Elle hurried over to the window once more and pulled aside the curtains again, sneaking another glance and praying the person had miraculously disappeared. _If only, _she thought. The person had not moved an inch. Elle bit her bottom lip, a habit she had developed while studying for her finals, before making a split decision and dashing to the front door and unlocking it.

Elle cautiously approached the person lying on the floor, looking nervously left and right before approaching the figure shrouded mostly in darkness. The only thing that was discernible about the person was they were alive, judging by the rise and fall of their midsection. And also, if Elle had to guess she would say that the person was male.

"Umm... hello? Are you ok?" Elle asked nervously, approaching very slowly, her heart thundering in her chest. "Do you want me to call an ambulance?" she asked as she stopped about two paces from the figure. No response.

Elle gulped audibly. She had a bad feeling about this. Finding what was left of her courage Elle crossed the rest of the distance between her and the figure, definitely male she now realised, and moved past them to the side which was bathed in light from the streetlights, hoping to see the mysterious figures face. She gasped. What she saw almost caused her to faint.

The man, no _boy, _she corrected, no _adolescent, _she corrected herself once more looked as if he had been dipped in a massive bucket of pigs blood and thrown into a lion's den. The youths face was covered in dirt and grime and blood, cuts littering his face and a pair of broken glasses dangling precariously on his nose.

His clothes had been completely ruined. His chest was almost fully exposed and on it she could see two, maybe even more large and deep gashes on it which were oozing blood. One of his arms looked to be broken and his other hand didn't look much better either.

One of his legs was covered in blood from just below the knee downwards and she realised that the guy had even made himself a splint. How he was still alive she did not know. _This one is either extremely lucky or made of some strong stuff, _she said to herself as she took in his appearance.

Steeling herself Elle ran over to the prone figure and dropped to her knees, desperately checking for a pulse. After a few seconds she found one, weak but definitely there, and pulled away her now bloody hand.

From this close she could now see that the wounds that the person had suffered were significantly worse than what she thought from a few feet away. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, what do I do?" she muttered to herself frantically, getting more and more stressed by the second.

"For fucks sake Elle, get a grip and call 999 you idiot," she chided herself out loud before fishing through her pockets looking for her phone.

A strangled moan of pain froze her midway through her search and she looked down to be met by pain-filled yet piercing and entrancing green eyes. "No cops," the boy wheezed and Elle stared at him in utter disbelief. "No hospital either," he managed before closing his eyes again.

_Ok, what the fuck? _Elle wondered to herself. _Great, not only did I have to find a teenager on the verge of death outside her front door, this particular teenager seemed to have a death wish._

Elle pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled deeply, her now overworked mind had gone into overdrive. This was not how she wanted to spend her summer.

"Ok, kid, listen to me," she started, hoping maybe the guy was just concussed or something and she hoped she could make him see sense. "If you don't get to a hospital soon then there is a high possibility that you will die, ok? Do you understand?"

She waited a second to see if there would be a response and sure enough she saw the teens eyelids begin to open before she was met yet again with those entrancing green eyes, yet this time they were glaring at her.

"No hospitals," he managed to groan out in between gasps and moans of pain. "And for the record," he huffed out after a short pause, causing Elle to look his way once more. "Never call me a kid again."

Elle stared into his eyes and gulped hard, genuinely afraid for the first time since she came out the door to confront the guy. _Fuck this shit, _she thought, now weighing up her available options. "Ok, so what do you want?" she asked after a second. "Something has to be done or else you will die. Have you seen the state you're in?" she asked incredulously.

The guy nodded and she sighed, thinking desperately as his eyes began to shut once more. "Hey, don't close your eyes and fall asleep. Umm...whatever you do, keep away from the light, ok?" she said in an uncertain voice, unsure of what to say to him. _Where in the fuck did that come from? _

Elle's statement was met with a raised eyebrow and a curve of the guy's lips, which in turn caused him to grimace in pain. Even the smallest gesture seemed to cause him discomfort. _Ok, fuck, shit, what do I do? I can't just leave him out here. But at the same time I don't want him in the house. What if he's a fugitive or on the run? Maybe even a deranged killer, _she thought, looking down at him sceptically, not quite believing her own train of thoughts.

"Ok, what's your name then?" she asked finally when she saw him on the verge of passing out once more. _He's really not with it at the moment, _she said to herself. _I_ _wonder if he'll even remember any of this._

"Harry," he responded in a weak and strained voice.

"Ok, Harry, what do you want me to do with you if you don't want to be brought to the hospital? Which I seriously advise, by the way," she added as an afterthought.

"Take me in, please. Just one night. I...money. Lots of it," Harry managed to get out but Elle could see that he was finally beginning to wane and if she didn't act quickly then he wouldn't last much longer. Elle cursed her indecision in taking so long to come to a conclusion. "You better not die on me, ok? I'll be racked with guilt for weeks!" she added as she decided to act, putting her arms under his armpits and dragging him towards the door.

_Fuck it, _she thought to herself. _What's the worst that can happen in one night? Plus I'm pretty sure he said he was rich. _Elle shook her head thinking this situation couldn't get any weirder. _Who gives a fuck anyway? If he's got a load of money I don't give a shit if he killed the bloody queen. He can stay here for one night at least._

Elle managed to get Harry in the door fairly quickly, closing it behind her with a kick and pulling him into the dining room adjacent to the kitchen. Straight away she noticed that perhaps he weighed less than a fifteen or sixteen year old boy should. At least she was guessing his age was within that ballpark. _Seventeen at the most, _she settled on.

Elle managed to pull his backpack off, having to rip one of the straps due to one of his arms being bizarrely stuck to his chest. Finally, after one final heave and a lift she managed to get Harry onto the couch. "No don't you dare fucking die in this house or else I'll wake you up and kill you again myself," she warned after flipping her hair out of her face, only notice that Harry was soundly passed out. Elle checked his pulse just in case.

She was just about to leave and head back into her room and hope for the best when she spotted the first aid kit hanging on the wall in the kitchen. After another glance at Harry's bloodied form she decided that she was going to at least clean out his wounds and bandage him up a little bit.

Elle grabbed the kit and on the way back she fished out an almost full bottle of whiskey from the cabinet and headed over to the couch which this mysterious boy was now bleeding all over. "How the fuck will I be able to explain that?" she muttered out loud before setting the medical kit and the bottle down.

Elle grabbed the each side of one of the tears on his shirt and ripped it apart, splitting the fabric down the middle from neck to the bottom of his abdomen. Funnily enough Harry's left arm managed to stay nestled against the side of his upper torso when she pulled but Elle disregarded it, more pressing things at hand. Elle studied his torso for a quick second before beginning, admiring his toned muscles but then frowning at how skinny he seemed.

Elle uncorked the bottle of whiskey and was just about to pour it on the wounds in his chest before she changed her mind and took a deep swig from the bottle, coughing and scrunching her face up as the liquid worked its fiery path down her throat. _I'm gonna need more of that before the nights through, _she thought grimly to herself before pouring some whiskey over the wounds.

Other than a light moan Harry made no indication that alcohol had been poured into his open cuts. _Either he's almost dead or he's a tough bastard, _Elle giggled to herself, the alcohol already making her feel light-headed.

Elle popped open the medical and set to work cleaning out the wounds with a cloth. When she was satisfied she sprayed some disinfectant on the wounds for good measure before placing some gauze over the cuts and taping them to his chest.

After that she moved onto his calf, not without another swig of whiskey, and set to work. "One for me, one for you," she giggled inappropriately as she drank some of the amber liquid before removing the make-shift splint and pulling up the trouser of his jeans before pouring some of the alcohol on his leg.

Her giddy mood was quickly sobered up however when she closely examined the wound after taking off the splint and realised that the wound pierced the whole way through his leg. She almost got sick at this point but somehow she managed to keep it together.

From there she moved onto his hand and after that she tried to work on Harry's left arm but for some bizarre reason she just couldn't pry it from his torso. Putting it down to the fact that the whiskey had now been finished, Elle shook her head and gave up, the world spinning for a few seconds after she finished shaking her head.

Finally deciding that there was nothing left to do but go to bed and hope that he woke up soon, Elle tried to get up from her kneeling position beside the couch before she found herself face down in the wooden floors of the dining room. _Must be drunker than I thought, _she summarised after a full ten seconds realising what happened before she managed to get to her feet and stumble towards her room, using the walls as support.

Her last thought before falling onto her bed, not even bothering to get under the sheets was that she desperately hoped that Harry would be ok.

* * *

><p>Albus Dumbledore sat behind his large, ornate wooden desk with a massive headache and perpetual worry pulsing about his body. Only one thing was on his mind and that was the well being of a certain famous wizard; Harry Potter.<p>

Albus sighed and stroked Fawkes' soft plumage as the phoenix sat on his shoulder, searching for solace and guidance from his immortal companion. It was not the first time he had felt the full of his one hundred plus years since the green eyes wizard had set foot within the halls of Hogwarts.

Not that he blamed the boy, of course, quite the contrary, in fact. Albus knew that he owed the young wizard so much, more than even Harry knew. He knew the harsh life that he condemned Harry to when he left them with those muggles.

Minerva had told them what kind of people they were but Albus had felt he was left with no options. With Remus Lupin MIA, more than likely grieving for his deceased friends and Sirius apparently a traitor and a mass murderer, Albus felt that the Dursleys were the only option he was left with.

Leaving Harry with any other wizarding family could have put not only Harry but also the family he was staying with in mortal peril. The Dark Lord may have been vanquished but his followers were not and he knew that they would seek blood and vengeance. He could not take that gamble when peoples' lives were at stake.

_No, _he thought, _The Dursleys were the safest option, an unknown family with no ties to the wizarding world. Along with the blood wards made possible by Lily's sacrifice. It was the only way I could ensure Harry's safety. _

Albus sighed and looked around his office at the various instruments that lined the walls and tables, some emitting soft noises while others letting off small puffs of smoke. The one which bothered Albus the most, however, was his instrument which allowed Albus to know if Harry had left the wards of Number 4, Privet Drive.

The instrument had first warned Albus of the situation earlier this morning, around 4am when most sane people would be asleep. But one thing Albus would never claim to be was sane. Brilliant, yes, but he would never say he was _normal. _

The fact that his little object was emitting a high pitched squeak was slightly worrying yet Albus knew that Harry often liked to sneak out to get some fresh air. It wasn't until approximately two minutes later did Albus Dumbledore's house of cards start to collapse around him.

"_Albus, quickly, you must come," came the startled voice of someone from the floo connection in his office. Broken from his inspection of device which let him know when Harry left the wards in Number 4, Albus turned to be greeted by the panicked face of Mrs. Figg._

"_What is the matter Arabella?" he asked in a serious voice, all signs of weariness and curiosity to be replaced by worry when he saw the expression of Mrs. Figg. _

"_Death Eaters, Albus. They're here for Harry. You must come quickly bef-," Arabella broke off as a crashing sound came through the fireplace and Arabella looked to the left, her expression turning from one of panic to one of horror and fear. _

_Albus watched with ice in his veins as she turned back to him and opened her mouth to say something when her head disappeared from the fire._

_Albus stood in shock for a few seconds before he mind kicked into gear and he burst into action, a silver patronus leaping from his wand, carrying a message to Minerva before he turned to Fawkes. "Fawkes, bring me Alastor as quick as you can. It is imperative that we do not tarry any longer."_

_Fawkes disappeared instantly in a ball of flames and Albus pulled his wand from his robes, the twinkle in his eyes now most definitely gone, ready to strike down Death Eaters and send them to an early grave if it meant saving the life of Harry Potter. _

Three hours had passed since Albus had returned from the wreckage of the house that used to be where Harry sought sanctuary during the summer months. By the time they had reached Number 4 barely anything remained. On the front lawn they found the body of a stunned Death Eater who was instantly tied up and stunned once more by Alastor for good measure.

Albus cast a strong confundus charm on the area, dispersing the small crowd of muggles who had gathered to watch the horrible scene unfold with shocked faces. As one the muggles turned and made their way back to their houses, all of them wearing very confused faces.

At the same time Minerva cast a notice-me-not charm on the area and began to search the area for survivors, either friend or foe. It only took minutes to discern that the Death Eaters had fled just mere seconds before they arrived. In those short minutes they also recovered the mutilated body of Arabella Figg, the word _Squib _carved deep into the flesh in her back.

Mad-Eye found Mundungus' body and together they checked the wreckage of the house, trying to find any bit of evidence as to whether Harry was alive or not. _Fiendfyre_, Dumbledore cursed as they waded through the wreckage, all of it charred and indistinguishable anymore. _It's impossible to tell if anyone was even in the house when it happened, let alone how many died. _

Dumbledore would have hoped that just maybe nobody was in the house to be unlucky enough to be caught in the vicious path of the fire if not for the distinct smell of burnt flesh. Dumbledore sighed. "Alas, I'm afraid there is nothing here of use to us. Alastor, contact the Auror Department, the ministry needs to know what has happened.

"Minerva and I will apparate back to Hogwarts and try and decipher what has happened here and how these events occurred. It is imperative that this is kept silent for the foreseeable future. Alastor, you must make sure that this is kept under wraps at the ministry. Locate Kingsley; he will aid you in this. Whatever happens, make sure Scrimgeour understands that this stays secret for the next twenty-four hours. The last thing the wizarding world needs right now is panic."

Mad-Eye nodded and with one last whiz of his electric blue eye disappeared with a soft pop. Dumbledore levitated the body of Arabella Figg while Minerva did the same with Mundungus and with heavy hearts both of them apparated to the gates of Hogwarts.

Albus was broken from his thoughts of the morning by a tap on the door to his office. "Come in," he replied to the knock and a grim faced Minerva McGonagall entered.

"What news, Albus?" she asked, foregoing any chit-chat and getting straight to the point. Now was not the time for formalities.

"Not good I'm afraid," Albus sighed, taking off his half-moon spectacles and resting a weary elbow on the table. "Ministry officials were able to confirm that there were the remains of at least four people among the wreckage. Due to the nature of fiendfyre it will impossible to find out just exactly who died in the fire.

"Alastor was successful in convincing the Ministry not to release anything for forty-eight hours to give us a chance to find him. Those that are on the case have sworn oaths to secrecy but we must prepare for the worst and the people have the right to know what happened last night."

"But there is a chance that Potter is still alive Albus, yes?" Minerva asked in a hopeful voice.

"Of course there is, Minerva. Knowing Harry like we do then I would venture to guess that the chances of Harry surviving are not merely possible, but maybe even probable," Dumbledore said softly, trying to quell his own worries as much as Minerva's.

"Harry has an uncanny ability to sense danger and a self-preserving streak that I have no doubt will have aided him last night," Dumbledore continued and Minerva nodded in agreement, slightly buoyed by Albus' words.

"However," Dumbledore warned, his voice becoming grim once more. "Judging by the state the house was in it is highly unlikely that he managed to escape the attack without injury. Alastor tells me that Harry's underage magic detector was detecting a high volume of magic from Harry last night, such as disarming spells, stunners and blasting spells.

"There is a high probability that Harry is out there right now, alone, injured and scared and without any help. It is imperative that we find him as soon as possible before any more harm can befall him."


End file.
